


Costume Chaos!

by xXx___RaisTop___xXx (ticketlove)



Category: Ticketlove(band)
Genre: Ehehe, Light Smut, M/M, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-13 21:44:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18039608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ticketlove/pseuds/xXx___RaisTop___xXx
Summary: Ticket Love decides to do a maid cafe to promote their new album and gain some recognition in the area. Hijinks ensue.





	Costume Chaos!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank u guyz sooooooo much for 1000 kudos on my last work!!! I know i usually write Sasuhei, but I think it would be good to switch it up a little bit ^-^ ! I have some cow hybrid fanfictions in my drafts, so stay tuned for next week when I publish them!

**_  
_**It’s just a costume. Just clothes. Nothing more. Just some fabric, some cloth that’s been stitched and sewed and pinned in place to the pleasure of the maker. An inanimate object. It’s not alive. It can’t control him. He’s the same person wearing this as when we wears his idol costume. In fact, it’s practically just like his idol costume. It covers more of him, actually, so it should be better, shouldn’t it? Just a change of clothes. That’s all it is. All it is. All it is.  
  
Rai bargains with himself in the mirror of his private dressing room, his knuckles clutching against the edge of the table and turning white as he stares at himself in the mirror, unable to recognize the boy who looks back at him. He looks disgusting- he’ll have to get his makeup redone by one of the artist before he goes out, because even through all the layers of concealer and blush and whatever else they caked on his face, he can still see the nauseous green and purple coming through. “I... I’m a top.” Rai says, not a statement but a question, maybe not a question but a suggestion, maybe not a suggestion but a prayer. “I’m confident. I’m a top.” He says, again, louder this time, but still not sure. This entire situation reeks of, drips with insecurity, and Rai doesn’t know if he’s really going to go out and be able to meet fans like this. He doesn’t even know if he can face his teammates looking like this.   
  
It’s not the outfit itself that bothers him, no. It’s not the skirt, because he’s work skirts before, but it’s the implications. The context. The entire situation is what’s making him feel like he needs to run to the nearest toilet and hurl his guts out until he’s all empty. “I’m a top! I’m a top, goddamn it!” Rai yells, pushing himself off the edge of the table and standing on his own two feet, slightly wobbly from the heel of his shoes (or nerves, not that he would admit that) and he balls his hands into fists, clutching the poofy fabric of his petticoat and outer layer of the skirt, along with his apron. “Tops don’t let stupid things like... like maid costumes get to them! Right, isn’t that right, Rai?”   
  
Rai begins to think he might really have gone a little bit off the walls as he looks at himself, frazzled in the mirror, and at some point the others must’ve heard his desperate cries because there’s a knock on the dressing room door and a sugary sweet voice drifting through. “Rai-chan...? You okay in there...?” Kihei, of course, is the first to voice his concern, bless his sweet heart, and Rai feels bad about worrying him.   
  
After straightening his headdress one last time, Rai finally takes the initiative and decides to leave his safe haven of the dressing room and steps outside, faking confidence with his every step as four pairs of eyes bore into him. “How do I look~?” Rai says, willing his voice not to crack as he speaks. He does a little spin, moves his arms like this and like that, bends his knee in one way and the other in a joking way to try and convince everyone else that he really is fine, he’s the same Rai as usual, of course a maid dress didn’t get to him.   
  
Yori is the first to speak up, his eyes are bright and sparkling as he sings his words of praise. He’s in his casual clothes, of course, as is Ryujiro, because both of them are there for emotional support and help planning everything out, so Rai honestly gets the feeling that he doesn’t understand the trials and tribulations behind wearing something like this, but he lets Yori off the hook. “Why were you so worried, Rai?” He says, moving around to try and see the back of the costume again, relatively boring save for the large bow to tie the apron in place. “I think you look great!”   
  
Kihei, snapped out of his stunned silence, follows suit. “Yeah, yeah! You looks soooooo cute!!!” His smile is bright and energetic, genuine and happy. He takes some of the material of the costume in his hands, feeling the soft cotton and the netting of the dress. He compares it to his own and, finding that they’re the same, resumes speaking. “I wish I looked as cute in mine as you did in yours.” He says, somewhat dejected. Rai thinks Kihei pulls off the outfit way better, his cute puppy eyes a perfect compliment for the frills and ribbons that adorn him, everything falling into place to make the perfect idol.   
  
“Ehehehe... thanks, you two.” Rai says. He laughs, slightly, sheepishly, and rubs the back of his neck with his hand, a nervous twitch to keep him distracted. “I think you and Yamada look really good though, Kihei.” It’s true. Yamada looks great, almost too great, his costume fitting in all the right places, not too tight around his chest or too loose around the waist, and he wears it perfectly prim and proper, with the full stockings and every button done up to the collar, keeping himself humble and hidden, despite everything. He still has his glasses on, but he had a special pair ordered for today, one deco’d with little ribbon and heart charms to match the outfit. Normally he wouldn’t have bothered with something like that, but it’s a nice detail. Rai wishes he would do something like that more often.   
  
Kihei turns to look at Yamada, who, after receiving a compliment of his own, looks away. “Yeah, Yamachin looks soooooo good!” Kihei bounces up and down, his undivided attention now on Yamada as he bashfully says some form of thanks. The two of them are around the same size thanks to Kihei’s platform shoes and Yamada’s lack of a heel, and it’s a little bit unnerving to see. It feels unnatural, so Rai has to look away.   
  
Ryujiro is the last to speak. “You look good, Rai.” He says simply. His expression is somewhat unreadable, not necessarily a smile but also.... not quite... not... a smile? Rai doesn’t know how to describe it, but it throws him off a little bit, along with the fact that Ryujiro doesn’t give compliments often.   
  
For some reason, that makes Rai feel good. Ryujiro hadn’t told Kihei or Yamada that they looked good (to his knowledge) so getting special treatment was nice. Rai could feel heat rising to his face, and he was going to struggle out a reply, but thankfully he was saved by Ryujiro’s follow up. “Are you guys ready to open shop, or do you need a minute to practice? Get in character? Yori and I wouldn’t mind being your first customers.”   
  
Hmm... Well....   
  
They were supposed to open at ten. Last time Rai checked, it was around nine-fifteen, meaning they had maybe half an hour before they had to open the cafe, but... was practice like this really okay? Rai could probably do this in front of fans, sure, because they would love it and he would probably never have to see them, personally, again after today. But acting like that for a friend.... the thought made Rai’s blood run cold. He couldn’t just embarrass himself like that in front of them. He had a reputation to uphold. He was a top, after all. Confident. Sexy. Dominant.   
  
“Oh? I think that’s a good idea, actually. Rai, you still need to get used to your costume.” Sasuke butts in before Rai can offer his protests, and suddenly all four of them are in agreement that a practice round before real customers come in will offer some useful experience. Sasuke and Kihei agree to take turns waiting on Yori, who shyly accepts, leaving Rai.... to take care of Ryujiro, of course. Of course! Today was already going to be so awful, so embarrassing, so humiliating that this was just going to be the icing on the cake, the cherry on the sundae, the headdress on the maid.   
  
The main floor had already been set up the night before for the event. The restaurant was essentially split into two parts by a wall that went through half the room, covered in promotional posters, decorative plants, and elegant columns. Booths lined the dividing wall on both sides, as well as the wall facing the outside, and every other booth was accompanied by a window looking out into the street. Those that weren’t had decorative paintings or posters. It was a little bit mix-matched, not quite in harmony, but it was reminiscent of Ticket Love themselves, a group of misfits, people with no where else to go and problems no one else could solve, and frankly Rai loved it.   
  
Ryujiro decided to take his seat in the very corner of the restaurant, on the opposite side of the wall to where Yori sat, so as Rai approached him, nerves racing and heels clinking, they were completely hidden from view, away from not just the others in the building but any potential onlookers passing by a window. He almost sprained his ankle, not once but twice, actually, on the way to the table, not quite used to walking in high heels yet, but Rai keeps his head up and doesn’t drop his pen or his notebook, determined to at least keep a little bit of his dignity intact after today. Finally arriving at the table, Rai musters, scrapes up any confidence he can find within himself to get into character.   
  
It can’t be that hard. It’s only for a few hours. Waiters and waitresses do this all the time.   
  
Rai gives his usual cocky and confident smile, and says “What can I get for you?” He doesn’t force anything, acts naturally, confidently, the Rai that he presents to the fans, to the crowds, to the press, to the interviews. The Rai everyone loves, everyone swoons for. He’s still a top.   
  
Ryujiro doesn’t look up from the menu. Rai can’t tell if he’s genuinely ordering something or playing pretend. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” Ryujiro says, almost ominously, in a somewhat demanding way, and Rai is thrown off his game.   
  
“What?” Rai asks simply, confused.   
  
Ryujiro signs and lays the menu down on the table. He rests his head against his fist and leans on the tabletop. “Where’s the pomp and circumstance? This is a maid cafe, after all. Not just some restaurant.” His words are surprisingly thoughtful, a nice constructive criticism, and probably would’ve been helpful to anyone besides Rai who would barely even ask for his order regularly.   
  
Rai laughs, nervously. “What? Do you want me to call you ‘m-master’ or something?” The word is hard to choke out, difficult to get across. He didn’t actually account for having to say it, he can’t even think it without blushing. Rai feels his face start to heat up, just slightly, and decides to go get some cold water when he gets to deliver the order to the kitchen.   
  
Ryujiro smiles. He smiles. Of course. Of course he’s having fun with this. Because he’s just like that. “Well, yeah. That’s the fun, isn’t it?” He says it like this is a game, like this isn’t Rai’s pride, his reputation, his self esteem on the line. “You know, call me master, speak a little formally, that whole deal?”   
  
“Ugh... But we’re friends... I don’t really have to do that, do I?” Rai asks, more of a complaint than an attempt at reasoning. He knows he has to. But he doesn’t want to. Oh, the pain, the torture of being an idol. Ryujiro just narrows his eyes and Rai realizes he lost before the fight even began.   
  
Rai straightens his back, takes a breath, and grips the little pen tighter in his hand. “What can I get for you, mas-master?” He says, stuttering his way around the word. He can feel the blush on his face spreading to his ears, down his neck, but there’s nothing he can really do about it besides grin and bear it.   
  
“Try again.” Ryujiro says simply. “Go until you get it right. You can’t stutter.”  
  
Rai scoffs, looking away. “I’m sure if it were Kihei you would let him stutter.” The comparison isn’t really fair, because Kihei has that shy moe boy thing going on, and he usually acts timid anyways, but Rai still puts up a fight, because that’s the only thing he’s used to doing.   
  
“Kihei’s different. He stutters because it’s cute, not because he’s nervous.” Ryujiro narrows his eyes. He doesn’t believe a single thing Rai says. Neither does Rai, of course. “Just go again.”  
  
“What can I get for you?” Rai says, then quickly coughs out “Master.” into his hand.   
  
“Again.”  
  
“M-Master? What do you want?”  
  
“Still nervous. Also, that sounds kind of rude.”  
  
“I’m not doing this anymore.” Rai turns around to leave, because he really is trying, but Ryujiro grabs his wrist before he can and yanks Rai down so that they’re at face level, despite Rai standing up and Ryujiro sitting in the booth. It’s a little uncomfortable, and their faces are so close together that Rai can feel Ryujiro’s breath against his face, but he’s still so surprised at the sudden motion that he doesn’t know what to say.  
  
“Again.”  
  
Ryujiro’s tone is harsher than before, cold and demanding, and frankly Rai is afraid of what he’s going to do if he declines. The hand on his wrist doesn’t lax, and Rai feels trapped, afraid, and his voice is weak when he speaks.   
  
“Master.” He says, breathlessly, without a stutter or a trip, the perfect title for the man in front of him. Their faces are so close that if Rai just leans in a little bit, he could close the distance, and he’s tempted to, but Ryujiro beats him to it and suddenly their lips are together, soft and warm, for a moment, before Rai parts his gently and Ryujiro takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss.   
  
Rai’s eyes snap open, and for a moment he’s nervous, scared, because this isn’t just his first kiss, it’s his first open-mouthed kiss and he doesn’t know what to do about it. He wants to pull away, but at the same time, a little voice in the back of his head is telling him “no, stay,” and so he does, he lets Ryujiro take control, do whatever he likes.   
  
Rai is pulled into the booth next to Ryujiro, and the hand on his wrist lets go, instead moving up to run through his black hair, ruining all the work the stylists did not too long ago. Ryujiro’s other arm snakes around and plants itself next to Rai’s thigh, trapping him in the booth with Ryujiro leaning on top of him. No where to go. Thank god the others can’t see.  
  
Ryujiro pulls away, and looks at Rai with hooded eyes, normally a light blueish black but now dark, dark with lust and need for control. Rai himself must look like a wreck, he realizes, smeared lip gloss and messy hair, flushed face and parted lips, upturned brows and wonton expression. Ryujiro just smirks at him.   
  
Rai takes another deep breath. He’s panting, slightly, from the kiss, and he feels warmth run through his entire body. “Master...” Rai whispers, and a wave of heat goes through him. He’s never... never felt like this before. This want, this desire, all directed at one person, all for Ryujiro.   
  
“You’re so pretty, Rai.” Ryujiro says as he unbuttons the frilly shirt, moving the top part aside to reveal Rai’s neck and collarbone, all Ryujiro’s to bite and suck at his discretion. “And you’re mine.” He says, roughly, his voice is deep, like a growl, not at all what Rai is used to. This is all new.   
  
As he feels Ryujiro’s mouth on his neck, his teeth going for a soft nip, not enough to draw blood but enough to leave a faint red mark, Rai says, softly, more of a moan than a coherent word, “Wait...”   
  
“Hmm?” Ryujiro pauses.   
  
“I wanna be.... I wanna be on top.” Rai says. It sounds pathetic, once he hears it, and he almost pities himself. Almost, almost he wishes he hadn’t said anything. Almost. It’s worth the humiliation when Ryujiro laughs against his neck, the hot breath going down Rai’s shirt to caress his chest.   
  
After his little fit is over, Ryujiro confirms Rai’s suspicions. “No.” He says, between chuckles, and Rai is left feeling as disappointed as ever. “You really think I’m gonna let someone in a maid costume fuck me? Really?” Thinking about it, logically, he has a point, but Rai really does want to be on top for his first time.    
  
“Besides, you seem to be enjoying it like this, aren’t you?” Ryujiro says, his voice husky, and the hand that was once going through Rai’s hair is now on his inner thigh, reaching up between the petticoats and frills of the skirt to rub circles in an area that is oh-so-sensitive. The teasing nature of it drives Rai wild, makes him want more, and want it now.   
  
“Ryujiro...” Rai moans, his hand going to the bench next to him for support.   
  
Ryujiro clicks his tongue in a disapproving way. “Being disobedient, are we, maid?” He says, whispers right in Rai’s ear, and for all Rai’s fight, all his bark, he has no bite, the second Ryujiro speaks Rai turns to putty in his hands, his to tease, his to play with, his to command and mold like clay, to make do his bidding.   
  
“Master...” Rai says, the word finally like candy on his tongue, spilling out once and twice and thrice. Ryujiro marks him, bites him, sucks at his neck until blue and black bruises are flowering against pale skin, little red nips becoming landmarks on his neck. He’s rough. Unrelenting. He wants everyone who sees Rai to know exactly who he belongs to without question.   
  
“Master.... please. Please touch me.” Rai begs, his voice coming out in pants. Ryujiro’s hand moves up, tickling along his thigh until he reaches the pretty, lacy panties Rai had been given to wear under the skirt.   
  
“Oh? All dressed up for me here too, huh?” Ryujiro teases, feeling the bows and frills that will soon be tossed to the side, anyways. “What a good little boy.” The name makes Rai go mad, and soon he finally gets his reward as Ryujiro pulls the panties down and reaches his hand to grip at Rai’s ......... **  
**  


* * *

  
  
**Rai screams**. In his alarm, he shuts off his phone and rolls to the other side of the bed, but his pent up energy sends him a little too far and he throws himself off, landing on the hardwood floor with a thud. He groans, not ~sensually~ like this stupid fic would entail, but out of pain. Mimi, woken from her nap, meows and jumps away, out of the bedroom and into the communal living room.    
  
“Yamada.... Hey, Yamada....” Rai says. Yamada doesn’t bother to turn around, and continues reading the book at his desk, unphased by the events unfolding behind him, unaware of the tragedy that Rai had just been through. After a minute without answer, Rai speaks louder. “Yamada..!” He says, sitting up and leaning on his elbows.    
  
“What do you want, Rai?” Yamada’s tone isn’t rude, but he sounds rather exasperated, tired of the fact that there’s always something happening with Rai. Rai, in his stupor, stunned and dazed, crawls over to the desk chair where Yamada sits and wraps his arms around his legs.    
  
“Do I act like a bottom?” He asks, out of nowhere, and he hears a sigh come from above.    
  
Yamada kicks Rai, gently, not enough to hurt but enough to get him away. “You’re acting like one right now. Get up.” Yamada says. Rai complies, standing up and sitting on the desk in an empty space next to Yamada’s work. “What’s gotten into you?” He pulls off his glasses to rub his head in frustration, and Rai gets the feeling maybe Yamada really doesn’t understand the daily struggles of a virgin top.    
  
“What was that?” A blonde head pokes its way around the doorframe, and soon Kihei saunters into the room, dressed in an oversized black shirt and pink fluffy pants, both gifts from Ryujiro, most likely, one intentionally and one not. “I heard a thud.... Did Rai finally kick the bucket?”    
  
Yamada turns to look at him. “No, unfortunately not.” He says, gesturing at the figure sitting and kicking his legs back and forth next to him. “He’s just being his usual self.”    
  
Rai frowns, biting at the insides of his cheeks. “You guys just don’t get it... Kihei, get me my phone.”    
  
“What’s the pass?” Kihei asks, diving onto the unmade bed and making himself comfortable.    
  
“One One One Seven. Anyways, give me that—“ Rai says, out of habit, and soon Kihei’s eyes are darting back and forth, illuminated by the words on the screen. He picked up where Rai left off, most likely, based on the way the color drains from his face and his eyebrows scrunch together in disgust.    
  
When he’s satisfied, Kihei turns off the phone and drops it next to him, unsure of what to do next. “Ryu.... Ryu-chan would never...” He says, trailing off. “Why are you reading this crap?” He demands, turning to look at Rai, and Rai.... well, he doesn’t really have an answer.    
  
“Why would anyone write it?” He retorts, not able to meet Kihei’s eyes. “It’s so baaaaaaaaddddddd.......” Rai trails off, lolling his head to the side.    
  
“I mean yeah, but...” Kihei returns to the phone, unlocks it again, and skims through the text one more time. “Kinda wish that were me though.”   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
